


lonely bearer

by tazmilyvillage



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, post-dream no more ending angst, though the knight is not actually here.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazmilyvillage/pseuds/tazmilyvillage
Summary: Hornet agrees to take the vessel's remaining belongings, though she could not tell you why.





	lonely bearer

**Author's Note:**

> the fic everyone and their mother has written, im sure - dream no more lends itself too well for short 'n sweet angst. nonetheless, hope you enjoy it

Hornet knew not to get attached. There was no room for attachment in Hallownest. Survival was all that mattered.

Survival and perpetuation.

She knew she had failed when she watched them stir to consciousness in her mother’s chambers. She spoke, and they sat—silent, still, listening. No doubt others found the vessel and their silence eerie, but Hornet could sense understanding within the void of their shell from the beginning, as much as she did not want to acknowledge it.

It made things so much easier if they did not understand. If they did not know.

Nothing but pity for their kind. That is what she told herself.

The cracked shell in her claws made her feel more than pity, though. She almost wanted to laugh. What other choice was there for her siblings? Sacrifice was forged within the core of each and every vessel, discarded like a broken nail.

And how many vessels had she seen crawl out of that Abyss, only to meet an untimely end at the hands of Hallownest’s cold unforgiveness?

Hornet was not supposed to get attached. But she clutched their shell close to her chest, and she allowed herself to consider a life that she and her siblings could not have.

* * *

In the past, she found little to no reason to ever ascend beyond the Crossroads. She was the self-imposed guardian of the Wyrm’s seal, nothing more—she did not need to fraternize with any bugs who had continued their lives in the kingdom unperturbed.

She did not want to, either. Her avoidance was not wholly reserved for her doomed siblings.

Attachment only led to hurt.

But the deed had been done, the infection sated, the kingdom restored. There was nothing left for her in Hallownest anymore.

Dirtmouth was not the ghost town that Hornet was expecting when she broke the surface. A few of the homes had Lumafly lights adorning their doors, little upkept decorations which separated neighbors. Shops, footprints, tattered signs for a traveling troupe—indeed, there was more to this town than she was willing to stomach.

Luckily, there was only one resident out and about, and he was quick to wave her down as soon as she warily approached its outskirts.

“Well met, young one. I’ve not seen you here before. Come to lay claim to a home?” He spoke in a slow, deliberate way, giving Hornet the impression that he might meander given the chance.

“No. Simply passing through.”

“Is that so? Shame.”

And that was enough for Hornet to begin gliding past. Elderbug hummed and studied her, running a hand across his chin pensively.

“Ah, a moment, Miss. You look familiar. I don’t believe we’ve met…?”

Hornet politely stopped, but she did not turn around to regard him. “We have not.”

“Oh!” It didn’t seem to matter to Elderbug, as he was eager to continue. “Now I recall… you bring to mind a funny little traveler, yes. Had just a bit of a warrior’s air about them, but never said a word all the times I saw them…”

Hornet glanced at Elderbug over her shoulder as he continued nonchalantly.

“… Actually, while sometimes I thought them a little cold--yes, even rude--once they brought me the most wondrous gift, a beautiful flower, and I realized that they were just a quiet sort and had truly taken my words to heart! Oh, but I’m rambling, aren’t I? Forgive an old bug. I just found them to be quite fascinating. Did you know who I speak of, by chance?”

Hornet did not respond.

“It feels like it has been a while since I’ve seen them, though it is difficult to keep track of time when you’re as busy as myself, you know. They gave me one last parting gift before they left, and I must say, it’s strange one. I’ve kept it on me in case they come back, but…”

He rifled in his coat for a moment before procuring a little package, neatly wrapped in what looked to be strips ripped from a familiar cloak.

“Like I said, they never said a word, but I got the feeling I was supposed to keep it for their return, and I am not one to pry into others’ belongings, you know.”

He paused as an idea occurred to him. “Say, you’re a traveler, right? A well-worn one, by your looks. I think that you have a better chance of meeting them than I. It would sadden me to know that they never got this back because they forgot about little Dirtmouth! Would you be willing to do an old bug a favor…?”

* * *

Hornet did not open the package until she was well up the Howling Cliffs. She should not have taken it. But she could not leave it behind.

Despite her gentle care, a few items clattered out as soon as she undid the knot. Elderbug had been right that this was just a collection of the vessel’s few belongings—belongings, she supposed, that they wanted to keep preserved after they had gone. A crumpled and near-indecipherable map, scribbled on sometimes hastily and sometimes keenly; a vibrant flower, most likely taken from the royal gardens, now pressed and wilted; a sparkling pink crystal, the perfect size to fit in the small of their tiny hand; and just a few charms, scuffed and worn from use.

Such sentimentality for a supposed empty creation. Hornet almost felt ashamed, like she was invading their privacy. Shame, regret, anger, but, most of all, sorrow. So, she began to gingerly place their things back upon the cloak to wrap them back up. The final item to pack was one of the charms that had fallen out initially, landing a little ways away, and its design gave her significant pause, her claws brushing it hesitantly.

The charm shimmered at her brief touch, and from the shimmer sprang three Weaverlings, who immediately searched their surroundings curiously, perhaps for their former master. But the Weaverlings stopped in their tracks upon noticing Hornet, and the two parties shared a long moment of stillness and silence.

Without any fanfare, the Weaverlings quickly skittered up her arms, some wrapping around them and some climbing to her shell, where they nuzzled and gave an occasional plaintive hiss for their woeful Princess.

Hornet raised a trembling hand to her kin.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

She allowed herself a temporary respite, listening to the whipping winds of the cliffs and to her Weaverlings’ shared stories of the long journey with their dear Knight. The vessel had a far-reaching impact it seemed, and Hornet found herself wishing that she had not been so afraid to get close to them, despite knowing how it would end.

At least now, she was not so painfully alone.


End file.
